Expecting The Rancher's Child. Sara Orwig

she met his probing gaze and wondered how long this reaction to him would continue. She didn’t want to try to guess what he was thinking at the moment. It was impossible to miss the blatant look of desire in the depths of his brown eyes.

      “We better stick to talking about business,” she replied, wishing she didn’t sound so breathless. How could she have this reaction to him when he wasn’t doing anything to cause it, and when they held such opposing views of the world?

      “Blake, we’re not going there,” she whispered.

      Suddenly, he looked mildly amused, which shattered the intensity of the moment. “Not going where, Sierra?” Exasperation pricked her.

      “You know where. I don’t know why we have this chemistry between us, but we need to ignore it, avoid it and hope it will go away because I’m sure you don’t want to feel it any more than I do.”

      “I’m hurt,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “I didn’t know I was such an ogre that you don’t want to find me attractive.”

      “Right now, you’re moving into an area where neither of us should go,” she snapped, losing her usual good nature and patience. She was on edge because of her reaction to him, and his sudden flirting was only adding fuel to the fire.

      He laughed softly. “Relax, Sierra. I know our relationship is a professional one, but while you’re living here, we might as well indulge in some unbusinesslike moments.”

      With an effort, she smiled and tried to bank her impatience with him. He had made light of that intense moment, and she was certain it had meant nothing to him. She wanted him to feel that it meant nothing to her, too. She had no intention of letting him know the extent of the edgy, sharp physical awareness she had of him as a sexy, attractive male.

      She suspected a man like Blake did not need any coaxing to entice him into a physical relationship. She was certain he had attracted females from a young age and was fully aware of the effect he had on women.

      “If that big check you gave me included anything besides the design work you described in my office, then the deal’s off.”

      Instantly the amusement left his expression. “Hey, Sierra. Absolutely not. My teasing was in fun and meant nothing.”

      She realized her reaction had been too strong. Her past biased her. She tried to relax, getting them back on a casual, friendly footing. “I don’t know you well at all. Just making sure we understand each other,” she said, smiling at him.

      “Good. Have a seat. Etta is in the kitchen, and Wendell is helping her get dinner on the table. I’ll introduce you to her. She’s a fantastic cook, which always makes it easy to come home.”

      “You think of the ranch as home,” she said a few moments later, after they’d stepped outside and were sitting in chairs facing his patio.

      “I told you that I love it here. This is my haven. I can come out here and enjoy the total silence. Sometimes you hear the wind, and sometimes you don’t even hear that. For a few minutes I can imagine the whole world is at peace. Even if it’s not, my little corner of it is.” He grinned. “Obviously, I like the ranch and I’m happiest here.”

      “You’re fortunate. Far luckier than you give much thought to. I work with people daily who don’t have a haven, not even a tiny one. Then, there are those who surprise me—one would think they couldn’t possibly feel at peace because they own nothing, but they have an inner sense of a haven. That’s resilience, and it’s amazing.”

      “You really like working with those people, don’t you?” he asked, looking more intently at her. He sounded surprised.

      “More than anything. It’s the most wonderful feeling in the world to help someone, or rescue an animal and find it a loving home, or make someone’s life easier. That’s the best possible reward.”

      “That’s commendable, but in my experience people don’t change. You can work your fingers to the bone and not make a difference. With the career you had, there were some very tangible financial rewards and lasting legacies. You could have built your own business instead of working with people who will disappoint and deceive you.”

      “You have a cynical view of the world. Expect more from people, Blake. There’s a deep-rooted goodness in most people. Look for that and believe in it.”

      “I’m just puzzled. You’ve tossed over a spectacular, successful career, a fabulous reputation and a hefty income for something that will take infinite patience, probably have low financial returns and be a lot of hard work that sometimes goes unappreciated and unrewarded.”

      “Wow, Blake. That’s strong. You’re only looking at the downside of what I do.”

      “Just looking at it honestly because I can’t understand your great faith in the goodness of human nature.”

      “I don’t know what you’ve experienced, but I have seen that people are good and can live up to high expectations, or occasionally exceed them. Look at you. You don’t need money, yet you work hard to build your hotel business.”

      He looked away and was silent a moment. She noticed a muscle flex in his jaw and wondered why her question caused him to tense up.

      “I want to know that I can be a success in the business world as well as in the ranching world. We all have our goals.”

      Wendell appeared, wearing a white apron over his jeans. “Dinner is served.”

      “Thank you.” Blake stood. “Leave your wine. There will be some poured at the table.”

      She walked with him toward the front of the house, and then they turned into the wide hall. In minutes Wendell directed them to a kitchen that was big enough to hold her Kansas City apartment, but the tempting smell of beef assailed her before she ever stepped inside. Doors stood open to reveal stainless steel appliances and state-of-the-art cookware that, when not in use, would be out of sight behind the elegant dark wood. A tall, slender woman with her brown hair clipped at the back of her head, smiled. Etta wore a white apron over a black uniform.

      “Sierra, this is Etta Strong, my cook. Etta, this is Ms. Benson, who is here to plan the decor for our new wing.”

      “So what’s for dinner tonight?” he asked as soon as the women had greeted each other.

      “Tossed salad with chunks of lobster, slices of avocado on the side and French dressing. Prime rib, asparagus hollandaise, mashed potatoes and gravy and buttermilk biscuits. With homemade peach ice cream,” Etta answered.

      “That sounds like a fabulous banquet,” Sierra remarked.

      “When you’re seated, I’ll get you started.”

      As Sierra walked with Blake to the adjoining informal dining area, she had another view of gardens and his irrigated yard, and marveled at the luxury of his lifestyle. She was thankful again for his check, and after their earlier conversation, she knew he needed to see some of the good his money would do.

      They sat at a table that could easily seat ten. Wendell came with a bottle of red wine and one of white. He asked Sierra her choice and tipped red into her glass before pouring Blake’s.

      Etta set the prime rib in front of Blake for him to carve. She returned with a bowl of steaming asparagus that she served.

      After the first bite of prime rib, Sierra sipped her wine and smiled at Blake. “I have to agree—you have a fabulous cook. This is delicious.”

      “Wait until you try her homemade ice cream. Wendell helps her with that.”

      “No wonder you like the ranch so much.”

      He smiled. “The food is the best, but there’s more than food. Have you ever been to a rodeo?”

      “No, I haven’t.”

      “Actually, one of the best is in New York City, the Professional Bull Riders at Madison Square